Kind of Blue
by SFGrl
Summary: Boy meets girl...they fall in love...and everyone around them screws it up. For Sal! {Complete!}
1. Prologue

_For Sally, who rocks more than anyone!_

_Kind of Blue_

_Prologue_

It is the unnatural combination of oxygen, light, and city smog that creates the brilliant display of colors in the dusk skies above New York City.  And the orange glow that filtered its way through the church windows that evening blanketed the room in a warm hue, softening her reflection in the full-length mirror.

Monica ran a flat hand over the satin fabric of her dress, ironing out the wrinkles that no one but her would ever notice.  Her hair sat in a neatly arranged heap on top of her head, curls of ebony cascading down, and framing her face perfectly.

She fumbled with her diamond and sapphire bracelet, shaky hands turning it so that it was _just so_.

Everything was perfect; everything was fine.

She took a deep breath and lifted her head, her eyes slowly following suit.  

Blue eyes met blue, as she focused on her own reflection.

A solitary, rebellious tear slid down her porcelain cheek, shattering the illusion.

She would never be the same.


	2. Coffeehouse Blues

_Kind of Blue_

_Coffeehouse Blues_

The people two tables over were talking at a level slightly above the rest of the Sunday afternoon crowd.  She could hear everything they were saying, and found her irritation raising with every syllable.

"So I finish my drink, and the girl is all over me, man!  I mean, she was grabbing at me before we could even hail the cab!  So I'm like, 'Baby, let's keep it in my pants until we get in the backseat', ya know?  But she's just aching for it, and I'm halfway there before we even pile into the car…"

Monica shook her head, and smiled sardonically.  The man clearly wanted to tell this story to everyone in the vicinity.

It wasn't the noise that bothered her; in fact, the white noise of several voices, in simultaneous, hushed conversation—the type that typically filled the small Village coffeehouse—was in a way comforting.  Like most people that lived in New York City, she wouldn't be able to function normally without the crowds.  It was a way of life, one that took getting used to, and one that eventually grew on you.

But all it took was one person, speaking above the average level of conversation, to kill the white noise, and distract her from her novel.  Sighing heavily, she thumped her book closed and stormed out of the coffeehouse.

"Man, she was something else. I can't quite remember her name, but now I get hard every time I see a cab!  HA!  Get it?  Hey—hello?  Chandler!"

"Huh?  Oh, right, a cab, got it," Chandler smiled uncomfortably, and scanned the coffeehouse with a nervous eye.  As much as he loved his best friend and roommate, he could never quite get used to Joey's crude remarks.

It was bad enough that he had to sit through Joey's way-too-detailed accounts of his nightly escapades—a constant reminder that Joey got more women in a week than Chandler got all year—hell, the whole damn decade.

To make matters worse, Joey had no problem relaying these details in public—in fact, Chandler got the sense that Joey got some kind of perverted thrill out of it.

The story today had been particularly bad, and Chandler had watched as several people around them scooted further away from the duo.  His eyes had fallen on a pretty dark haired woman, who was so obviously disgusted with the story that she had gotten up and left—her irritation shining through.

His mind had been on that woman when Joey waved him back to reality.

"What the hell is wrong with you today anyway?" Joey asked through a mouthful of blueberry scone, "I mean, you're so out of it."

"Huh?  Oh, I dunno, tired I guess," Chandler mumbled absently.

"Yeah, well wake up and smile dude—I got you a date for Friday!"

Chandler snapped to attention.

"Wh-what?  Why?"

"Because it's Valentine's Day, and I'm sick of you whining about how there are no good women out there.  I've dated half of Manhattan, and lemme tell ya—some of them are pretty good!"

"You sure it's only half?" Chandler muttered under his breath.  Out loud he said, "Look, I don't think I'm ready for a blind date, okay?"

"Dude," Joey leaned forward, and looked at Chandler crossly, "It's been like, a year.  You've gotta let her go, okay?"

Chandler sighed, and sat back in his seat.

"It's only been eleven and a half months," he mumbled sadly.

"Chandler, she left.  She's gone, and you need to accept that," Joey said reverently.

"Yeah, well why should I even try then?  I mean, what if I fall in love again and then the woman gets sick of me and leaves?  I don't want to go through that again!"

"What happened was not your fault, okay?  You know what she was like before you even started dating her!  She was always a little…flaky."

"Don't start with that, Joe—" Chandler pointed his finger at Joey sharply.

"Oh come on!  I'm sick of this conversation!  Aren't you sick of this?  Let it go!  Phoebe is gone, Chandler, and she isn't coming back.  You can't just love her and pine over her, and will her back into your life!  She met that weird scientist-dude, and she moved on.  You need to too!" Joey stood up and tossed his napkin on the table, before storming out of the coffeehouse.

Chandler sighed, and stared at his hands.  He knew it was time to move on.  He knew that he was ready.  But he wasn't sure he was willing to take the risk, so he hid behind the grieving boyfriend façade; he let everyone believe that he wasn't over Phoebe.

Because it was easier than admitting that he was too afraid to try again.

*

Monica walked into her apartment, and tossed her book onto the kitchen table.  There was no way she was gonna be able to concentrate when it was so dead-quiet.

She pondered the idea of a roommate again, but quickly shook off the notion.  She was way too neurotic, and she had totally hated her last roommate.  Not that Janice was a bad person or anything.  She was just so—irritating.  She laughed like a hyena—no, no, it was more like a machine gun.  And she had the _worst_ taste!  Monica shuddered as she recalled the awful leopard skin lamp that had adorned the back corner of the living room.

But Janice had gotten engaged, and had thankfully moved to the other end of the city.  And Monica had never bothered to replace her.

But ever since her brother Ross had moved up to Massachusetts, Monica felt isolated—and lonely.  She rarely talked to her neighbors—a weird hippie couple with about fourteen cats—and she didn't really get along with her parents—or her coworkers.  So she spent most of her time in the park, or in the small coffeehouse downstairs, reading novels and short stories, and dreaming of a different life—not a drastically different one, just a…richer, fuller one.  A life full of friends and—

Love?  Maybe love.  She loved the idea of being in love, but she figured that if it was meant to be, then it would just…happen.  Like in the movies or something.

What was wrong with wanting a fairy tale, Disney ending?  

What was wrong with happily ever after?

It could happen.

*

Friday

"So I just couldn't take it anymore!  I mean, I _know_ a lot of men bring their work home with them, but I just think that if you are an _OBGYN_, then you should leave it all in the _office_, you know?"

Chandler stared at the woman Joey had set him up with blankly, and nodded robotically whenever he heard an inflection that most likely meant his date had asked him a question.  What had Joey done to him?  This woman had spent the past _two hours_ talking about her ex-husband.  And as if that wasn't bad enough, she had the most irritating voice in the Tri-state area.  What was her name again?  Janine?  Julie?  God, whatever it was, he just wanted it to _stop talking_!

"So then he tells me that we can't have sex on weeknights, because of his job!  I mean, can you imagine, no sex for five nights?"

_I can imagine no sex for five years after the image you've just pasted in my head, sweetheart._

"So anyway, Chaaandler, tell me about yourself."

"Oh, there isn't much to tell." _I'm borderline suicidal at the moment…but tell me more about YOU._

"Hey dude, we're takin' off," Joey and the date that was apparently Super-Glued to him stood up.

_Make that borderline homicidal._

"What?  You can't leave me—us here!"

"Dude, you'll be fine!" Joey leaned down to whisper in Chandler's ear, "She hasn't had sex in months—she's a sure thing!"

Chandler shot Joey a death glare, as the latter half carried his date out of the restaurant.

"So Chaaaandler, what do you do for a living?"

Chandler looked at Janice, and smiled wickedly.

"I'm a dentist."

*

**_Yes, I know I have other fics, but I promised a special one for Sal.  This one will be pretty short, since I already know how it ends… ;P_**

****

**_A_**


	3. Blue In Green

_Kind of Blue_

_Blue In Green_

He slid into consciousness slowly, and reluctantly.  He wasn't sure which was worse; the persistent, painful pounding emanating from within his own head, or the strange, highly annoying wheezing noise that was emanating from the left side of the bed.

Groaning, he rolled over, and opened each eye slowly, only to confirm what he already knew.

Janice was even irritating when she was asleep.

He'd told her he was a dentist, hoping to put her off—he figured she would run screaming from the table.

As it had turned out, she had an oral fixation, and he had spent the rest of the evening making up things about his 'job', using the few facts about dentistry he had gleaned from his occasional dental visits—all while consuming an obscene amount of Cabernet Sauvignon.

Then things became—fuzzy.  There had been a taxi ride—and a fumbling attempt to get into the apartment quietly, and then…

He was pretty sure they had had sex—a lot of sex—but he couldn't actually recall any of it.

Janice snorted, and turned over to her stomach, and the wheezing actually increased.

The only thing he had going for him was the fact that they were at her place—a tiny Tribeca studio—meaning that he could, with a little luck, slip out of the apartment unnoticed.

He climbed out of bed slowly—carefully, and, ignoring the unbelievable pressure mounting in his head, gathered his clothing from the hardwood floor.

Then, with all the grace of a three-legged blind elephant, he stumbled into his pants, freezing when he detected a startled snort coming from the bed.

Janice let out a nasal whine-like sigh, and fell back into unconsciousness.

Chandler counted his blessings and slipped out the door.

*

She was deep into her book when she heard her name being called.

"Monica?  Monica Geller?"

Monica placed her finger over the section she had been reading, and tried not to appear annoyed as she looked up.  She spotted the woman who had called out to her immediately.  Dressed in ridiculously tight, dark green, leather pants and a too-tight halter-top, the woman would have stuck out anywhere—except maybe New Jersey.  She flipped her teased brown hair over her shoulder, and let her silver bangles jingle as she extended both arms in an over exaggerated manner.

"Mooonica, I just caan't believe it's you!"

"R-Rachel Green," Monica smiled tightly, and hugged the woman, and tried not to gag on her Aqua Net.

"Actually it's Rachel Farber now!" Rachel gushed, shoving her 5-carat diamond in Monica's face.

"W-wow!" Monica smiled with mock-enthusiasm.

"I-uh I would have invited you, but I didn't have your address…" Rachel smiled, and shifted uncomfortably.

"Oh, it's fine," Monica smiled. _I'm sure you'd completely forgotten about me until this very moment._

"Well anyway, you're here _now_, and I am just _dying_ to know what you've been up to all this time!" Rachel clapped her hands together to emphasize just how much she was _dying_ to hear about Monica's life.

"Well, I live just down the street, and I am head chef at Allessandro's, and I—"

"Forget all that—are you married?  Dating?"

"I'm…looking," Monica shrugged.

"Oh," Rachel's shoulders dropped in disappointment, and she sighed deeply.

"So, how is married life?  What does your husband do?"

"Married life is great!" Rachel said a bit too enthusiastically, "And Barry—that's my husband—he's a doctor!"

"Wow!  What kind of doctor?" Monica asked, and tried to look interested.

"Well, he's a-an orthodontist, actually," Rachel's smile faltered, but was swiftly restored.

"Well, your kids will have the straightest teeth in the city then," Monica laughed.

"Yeah," Rachel sighed distantly, as her eyes glazed over slightly.

"Rach?  You okay?"

"Yeah, great.  Everything's fine," Rachel smiled tightly.  Moments later, she broke out of her strange trance, and restored her bubbly façade.

"Anyway, I'd better go!  _Saks_ awaits!" Rachel bellowed, and started for the door.  She turned and looked over at her former best friend.

"Monica, we should _really_ have lunch sometime soon!"

"Absolutely," Monica replied, as Rachel floated out the door.

She wondered if she'd ever see Rachel Green again.

*

He finally managed to get enough energy to saunter down to the coffeehouse, and plop onto the sofa that sat in the far back corner.  

He watched, as people flittered in and out of the café, all of them over-caffinated, and barely aware of anything that was going on around them.

His eyes fell to the opposite corner of the shop, where he noticed the dark-haired woman from the other day, deeply engrossed in her book.

He wasn't sure what made him stand up and cross the shop, especially in the wretched state he was currently in, but he was halfway there before his brain could analyze any sort of reasoning.  He came to a stop directly in front of her, and watched her in silence for a moment.

She didn't look up.

"That must be one hell of a book," Chandler started lamely. 

No reply.

"It looks like a different one from the one you were—reading last week," Chandler continued rambling, his face reddening with every word that spilled out of his mouth.  What the hell was he saying?  Could he sound any _more_ like a stalker?

She looked up finally—and did not look pleased.

"Can I help you with something?" she asked icily.

"I just—I wanted to apologize for my friend the other day.  He was kinda loud, and I saw that you got up and left, and I felt bad—"

"Yeah, well, not all of us want to listen to your friend's version of _Sex and the City_, ya know?"

"Trust me, I don't wanna hear it either," Chandler laughed nervously, "but I don't have a choice—we share a wall."

The woman laughed at this, and Chandler felt himself relax a little.

"Anyway, I'm sorry," Chandler smiled.

"It's not your fault," the woman said, her tone softening slightly.

"I'm Chandler," he extended his hand slowly, and smiled broadly.

"Monica," she took his hand, and shook it quickly.

It was the smile that finally got her.

She'd noticed the eyes first, but was still annoyed by the fact that this guy was trying to pick her up—and doing a horrible job of it—while she was trying to finish her story.

Then he said something charming—in a dopey kind of way—and smiled at her.

And she found herself laughing involuntarily.

What the hell was she doing?  She should be shooing this guy _away_, not _encouraging_ him with flirty eyes and a seductive grin!

And before she could control it, she had asked him to sit down, and have a cup of coffee with her.

"So, what are you reading, anyway?"

"Chekhov," Monica said, and pushed her book toward him.

"What's the story?"

"The story I'm on now is about a man who falls in love with a married woman.  He continues to see her, even though he knows he can't have her.  Eventually, she moves away with her husband."

"Does he let her leave?"

"He has no choice, she's married."

"Does she love him?"

"Yes, she does."

"Why does she leave then?"

"Because love is never black and white."

"I see," Chandler nodded, and pushed the book back toward Monica, "Have you ever been in love?"

"I don't know," Monica shrugged and tucked her book into her bag.

"If you don't know then you probably haven't," Chandler smiled wryly.

"Have you?"

"Once.  It was the worst thing ever," Chandler laughed.

"Why?  What happened?"

"She left me," Chandler said quietly.

"Oh.  I'm sorry."

"It's alright.  I'm over it."

The couple sat in silence for a long minute.  Suddenly, Chandler let out a short chuckle.

"What?  What is it?" Monica looked at Chandler quizzically.

"I just…I mean, I just met you, and…it's weird, I feel like I can tell you anything.  Are you a shrink or something?"

"No, I'm a chef," Monica smiled.

"Well, there goes that theory," Chandler laughed.

"But I used to be a bartender," Monica added.

"Ah, then that explains it!" Chandler smiled, and Monica laughed.

Hours passed, and neither seemed to notice.  Only when the white-haired man behind the counter announced that he was closing for the night did either party look at their watch.

"I can't believe how late it is!" Monica said, as she gathered her coat and bag.

"Yeah, time flies when you are having fun," Chandler smiled, as he pulled on his coat, "Can I walk you home?"

"Oh, I just live on the next block," Monica smiled, as Chandler opened the front door of the café for her.

"Yes, well, it is a _long, long_ city block."

Monica giggled, and nodded, and they began walking toward her apartment building.

They walked in silence for a minute, their first real pause in conversation since Chandler had sat down at Monica's table.

"Looks like it snowed a bit while we were in there," Monica observed, as they crossed the street.

"Yeah," Chandler replied, and tentatively took Monica's hand in his.

She smiled inwardly, and slightly squeezed his hand in response.

"So, this is my place," Monica stopped abruptly, and turned to face Chandler.

"Oh," Chandler looked the building up and down, "it's really nice."

"I like it," Monica smiled, and casually pulled her hand from Chandler's, before taking a step up onto her building's front stoop.

"So…I'll call you?" Chandler asked hopefully.

"Okay…but I work the rest of the week," Monica said.  Upon Chandler's crestfallen expression she added, "So maybe we could just…plan something now?"

Chandler smiled, and tried desperately not to let his relief show.

"How about dinner Saturday night?"

"I'll meet you at Central Perk at 8," Monica smiled.

"Okay," Chandler nodded, and took a small step toward her.

"So, I'll see you Saturday then," he whispered softly, sending butterflies through her stomach.

She nodded silently, and leaned toward him slightly, as he took another step toward her.

She couldn't believe she was about to kiss a total stranger!  Well, he wasn't a _total_ stranger, but still…this was not like her, _at all_.

Her eyes fluttered closed, and she felt his hot breath warming her frozen lips.

Her knees her shaking.

She moved forward slightly, her heart racing, and her stomach churning.  And then…

_Thump._

She opened her eyes, and looked down.  It took everything she had not to howl with laughter.

But she couldn't contain the fit of giggles.

He wasn't sure what had just happened.

One minute, he is centimeters from a luscious kiss with a beautiful, intelligent woman, and the next, his legs are coming out from under him, and his is landing on his ass—literally—on a patch of black ice.

He wasn't sure what was hurting more—his butt, or his pride.

He looked up at Monica, who was now completely overwhelmed with laughter, and shook his head.

Talk about embarrassing.

She finally calmed down enough to crouch down and see if he was actually hurt—he hadn't said anything since the fall.

"Are you okay?" she said through her tears.

"I—think I broke something," he replied quietly, and didn't look up at her.

"What?  Oh God!  Should I call an ambulance?" Monica leaned toward Chandler, concern lighting her face.

Chandler looked up suddenly, a wicked grin plastered on his face.  Before Monica could react, he wrapped his arm around her waist, and pulled her into a snow bank that lined the sidewalk.

"Oh, you _animal_!" Monica screamed, as Chandler stood up slowly, and wiped his own tears of laughter from his face, before extending his arm to help Monica to her feet.

"Well, that's what you get for laughing at me," Chandler chuckled, as he pulled Monica up.  She said nothing, and simply looked at him sourly.

His laughter died down, and, in an unusual act of bravado, he pulled her toward him, and moved in to kiss her.

The kiss was light, and timid, deepening only when he felt her arms encircle his neck.

Ending when he felt a large lump of snow being shoved down his shirt.

She smiled triumphantly as she pulled away, and walked wordlessly into her building.

She raced up to her living room, and clambered out onto her balcony.  

He was pulling the last of the snow from his shirt, and twisting around to inspect the massive wet spot on the butt of his jeans.

His butt looked really good in those jeans.

_What was she doing?_  She mentally slapped herself, and shook her head.

She watched him walk down the street, back toward the coffee shop, his gait slightly crooked, thanks to the soaked jeans and soar backside.

She couldn't contain her smile.

And despite the cold, wet pants, the wet shirt, and slightly shaken pride, neither could he.

AN: Yeah, it's all happy happy now, but you know me… 


	4. All Blues

_Kind of Blue_

_All Blues_

It was one of those wonderful, golden, Sunday morning dreams; the kind you never want to wake from—at least not yet.

But something was tickling her nose.  She tried to swat it away, and drift back into a peaceful slumber, but whatever-it-was was being persistent.

She swatted at it again—but this time she picked up a faintly sweet scent…

Monica crinkled her nose and furrowed her brow, but still stubbornly refused to open her eyes.  Chandler let out a short, silent laugh, and continued his assault.

He ran the rose down her face again, pausing ever so slightly at her nose.  Third time being a charm, she took a deep breath, and opened her eyes slowly.

"'Bout time," he whispered, a monstrous grin lighting up his face.

"Mmmm, I was having the most wonderful dream…" she moaned through a long, lazy stretch.

"Yeah?  What was it about," he laid down fully on his side, and propped himself up on his elbow, careful not to put his shoes on her white comforter.

"This guy I met at a coffee shop a few months ago," Monica smiled, and picked up the red rose Chandler had laid on her chest.

"Oh yeah? What's he like?"

"Well he's tall, and _relatively_ handsome…but he has a _horrible_ sense of humor," Monica grinned.

"He sounds…great!" Chandler smiled.

"He's pretty great," Monica combed her free hand through Chandler's hair, and pulled him toward her for a kiss.

"Happy four month anniversary," Chandler whispered, as he pulled away.

"Is that what this is?" Monica smiled, and brought the rose up to her nose.

"Maybe," Chandler smiled.

"When did you get this, anyway?" Monica inquired softly.

"While you were snoring away," Chandler laughed, and sat up, "I also bought some breakfast, but I know how you are about food in bed, so…"

"Food is not meant to be eaten in bed," Monica said with mock-sternness.

"Yeah, yeah," Chandler sighed playfully, and stood up, "c'mon, get up lazy bones…your 'relatively handsome' boyfriend wants to eat."

"Okay," Monica climbed out of bed, and slipped into her robe.

"Hey Chandler?"

"Yeah?" Chandler turned in the doorway to look at her.

"You know you are actually _really_ damn handsome," Monica smiled, as she approaching him, and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Yeah, I know," Chandler joked, "And you know that you…have got some serious morning breath going on," Chandler choked, and ducked before Monica could smack him.

***

"Dude, you are killing me here!  Could you not be so freaking happy for two seconds?" Joey was pacing around the living room, but stopped when Chandler emerged from the bathroom slowly.

"You don't like my version of _Ain't That a Kick in the Head_?" Chandler smiled, and started to whistle the tune again.

"Dude!"

"Ya know," Chandler said, as he crossed the room and picked up his midnight blue silk tie, "You were getting on my ass for being so miserable about Phoebe, and now you are all pissed off that I'm happy.  What's your deal?"

"I didn't realize you were _this_ annoying when you were happy," Joey grumbled, and plopped into his chocolate leather recliner.

"What's going on," Chandler sobered, and sat in the adjacent chair, concern lining his eyes.

"It's nothing," Joey pouted sourly.

"Joe, c'mon, you know you can talk to me."

"Alright, but you can't tell anyone, okay?"

"Yeah, I swear," Chandler nodded.

"Not even Monica," Joey added.

"I promise Joe, now what's up?"

"Okay.  See, there's this girl…I met her at a bar a couple months ago…she was really hot, and she seemed kind of down.  She started talking about some friend of hers or something…anyway I told her she was beautiful and all that, and then I brought her here and we had sex on the…uh, never mind.  Anyway, when we woke up the next morning, she was all crying and she said she felt really cheap, and I felt bad, so I told her I'd never had a one night stand, and that I really liked her—"

"You did what?" Chandler asked incredulously.

"Can I finish?"

"Sorry."

"Anyway, she said she really liked me too, and so, ya know, we did it again and—"

"Joe, I don't need to know _every_ detail."

"Anyway, I said I'd call her, and she freaked and said no-no she would call me.  And she did, and we kinda started seeing each other…but it was weird because we never went to her place, ya know?  So this morning I asked her why we always had se—why we always slept here, and guess what she said?"

"She lives in a really small studio?  In Brooklyn?  She has cats?  Kids?  I dunno Joey, tell me," Chandler sighed.

"She's _married_."

"Whoa," Chandler sat back in the recliner.

"Yeah.  We've been going out for _months_ and she _never_ said anything."

"What did you say?"

"I freaked!  I don't wanna be like my dad Chandler, you know that!  I mean, I know that I get around, but I do have morals!  She is a _married woman_!  That is just off limits!"

"Okay, Joey, calm down.  Look, you are not like your dad, okay?  I mean, technically, you would be _Roni_ in this scenario," Chandler reasoned.  Off of Joey's look he said, "But let's not talk about that.  Look, you didn't know she was married.  You aren't in the wrong here, she is.  She's the one who is cheating, not you!"

"But the thing is—" Joey stopped, and ran his hand through his hair, before placing his head in his hands.

"You don't wanna stop seeing her, do you?" Chandler asked quietly.

Joey didn't look up; he simply shook his head silently.

"What does she think?  Does she love her husband?  Is she gonna stay with him?"

"She's pregnant."

"Wh-what?" Chandler said, shocked.

Joey lifted his head, and looked over at Chandler.

"She's pregnant.  And she doesn't know who the father is.  But it can't be me, right, because we always used condoms!"

"Joey, condoms aren't one hundred percent effective."

"What are you talking about?  They should put that on the package then!"

"They do, Joe.  Look, you need to find out what she wants.  And you need to tell her what you want.  What do you want?"

"I don't know," Joey sighed, "I…I just want her—without all of—this," Joey threw up his hands in exasperation.

Chandler glanced at the clock, and stood up, "I gotta go man.  But if you need to talk, I'll be back later, okay?"

"Yeah, thanks, man," Joey sighed, and watched Chandler walk out of the apartment.  He stood up slowly, and walked into the kitchen, where he opened one of the drawers, and pulled out a stack of condoms.  He studied the package carefully, and shook his head.

"They really _do_ put it on there."

***

"Are you okay?" Monica touched Chandler's arms gently, and brought him back to reality, "You've been really quiet all evening."  They were taking a post-dinner stroll through Central Park.

"Huh?  Oh, yeah, I was just thinking," Chandler mumbled.

"Uh oh," Monica laughed.  When Chandler didn't respond, she sobered, and cocked her head to one side.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah I was just…it doesn't matter," he sighed.

"What is it?  You can tell me."

"Actually, I can't.  I promised Joey I wouldn't.  I-it has nothing to do with you, he's just having…problems," Chandler shrugged.

"Oh.  I'm sorry sweetie.  Is there anything I can do?"

"No…aw, honey, look I'm sorry, I shouldn't be dwelling on this on our four-month anniversary."

"No, it's okay!  Look, why don't we cut the evening short, and you go talk to him?  I'll bet he needs the company right now."

"No, I don't want to ruin your—"

"Chandler, I insist.  He's your friend, and he needs you.  We can just make up for it next month," Monica smiled seductively, "I'm not backing down, Mr. Bing."

"Fine," Chandler relented, "but I will make it up to you."

"I know," Monica smiled.

"Thanks babe.  You are the best."

"I know that too," Monica laughed.

"I'll walk you home," Chandler said softly, as they made their way out of the park.

"I'll give you a call tomorrow," Chandler said, as he led Monica up the steps to her apartment.

"You'd better.  I hope Joey feels better.  Give him my best."

"I will.  Thanks, Mon."

"Anytime. Oh, hey are you still going to Boston with me next weekend?"

"Yeah.  Unless you think your brother is gonna totally hate me…"

"You have nothing to fear honey, Ross is a total wuss.  Even I can kick his ass."

"Need I point out that you can also kick _my_ ass?" Chandler grimaced.

"Well then, if Ross hates you…I'll protect you.  Now get outta here!"

"Alright, see ya!" Chandler pecked Monica on the lips, and bounded down the concrete steps.

"I love you!" Monica called out to his retreating form.

"Me too!" Chandler called back, without looking in her direction.

_And one of these days I'll actually get you to **say** it, Bing!_ Monica thought, as she shook her head and walked into her apartment building.

**AN: Okay so, a couple of characters aren't coming off so well in this one, but keep in mind that when I am writing about…Janice, for example, it is through Chandler's POV.  So if he doesn't like her, she's coming off bad…no matter what she is actually like.**

**All of the Friends will be making an appearance in the fic…but it will pretty much focus on Chandler and/or Monica, since this is Sal's fic, LOL.**

**One or two more to go…**

**A**


	5. Blue Because You Love Her

**AN: So, some notes…**

**Exintaris—what's wrong with snoring?  ;)  And I knew you would be the one to figure the Joey thing out (I _know_ that you know, lol)**

**Krystin: Rachel can't be married to Ross; Rachel is married to Barry Farber!**

**Monica-Bing: Other shoe dropping now.**

**This is a Romance-_Drama_.  More drama coming into play here…you've been warned.**

_Kind of Blue_

_Blue Because You Love Her_

He paced around the living room nervously, and tried desperately to control his shaky hands.

But it was no use; he was beyond nervous, and it was killing him that he had to wait it out here, alone.  (Why did Chandler choose _this_ weekend to abandon him for some trip to Boston?)  He needed to know what was going on…the anxiety alone was driving him mad.

There was a soft knock on the front door, and he stumbled twice in his frantic race to answer it.  He swung the door open, and tried his best to look calm.

Unfortunately, he wasn't that great of an actor.

"Hey," he said as casually as he could, though it still came out shaky and tense.

"Hey."

"C-come on in," he opened the door wider, and stepped to the side quickly.

"Thanks."

She walked in, and his eyes never left her.  She turned to face him, and was startled by the intensity of his gaze.

"Joey," she started slowly, "I—I got the test results, and…"

"What?  Is it mine?  Is the baby mine?"

"No."

"Oh," his shoulders fell, and he leaned back heavily against the wall for support.

"Joey, I…I don't want to stop seeing you, but—"

"But you have a family now.  And you should be with your _husband_, and your _baby_.  It's only right."

"I'm sorry," she whispered softly, and moved toward the door, "I…I should go."

She opened the door, and walked out of his life.

He sank to the floor, and put his head in his hands.

"But I love you," he said to the empty room, "no matter what."

She stood on the other side of his door, her heart racing wildly.

A stifled sob could be heard from the inside the apartment, and it only broke her heart further.

She loved Joey, she did.

So why did she lie?  Why didn't she tell him that _he was_ the father of her baby?

At the time, the reasoning seemed so logical.  Joey was a single guy, who wasn't ready to be tied down with a baby.  And she had a husband at home who would provide for her, and give her everything she needed.

So what if she didn't love Barry?  Love was overrated anyway.

Oh, but Joey.  She did love Joey, and she knew, deep down, that if she would have told him the truth, he would have stood by her, and loved her, and the baby.

Rachel cradled her arms around her stomach, and took a deep, shaky breath.

No, she'd done the right thing.  She'd freed Joey, really.

She'd done it for love.

***

_"Roller coaster of looove…Roller coaster…a hoo hoo hoo…"_

Monica smiled, and opened her eyes slowly, her grin broadening as she was met with the image of Chandler not only singing, but bobbing his head like a maniac as he drove down the highway.

"So, how many more miles, funky white boy?" 

Chandler started, and Monica giggled when his face reddened.

"I—I thought you were asleep," he muttered sheepishly.

"Kinda hard to sleep with your…um, what was that?  Was that singing?"

"Very funny," Chandler smiled, "we're about an hour outside of Boston."

"Wow, how long was I out?"

"Well, I managed to get through _Bohemian Rhapsody_, _My Sharona_ and _Ain't Too Proud to Beg_ without you waking up," Chandler laughed.

"I can't believe I missed the show," Monica replied flatly, "You want me to drive now?"

"You wait until we are almost there to ask?" Chandler winked.

"Well, you know, a gal needs her rest…"

"Right.  Nah, I'm all right.  But you get to drive the whole way home."

*

Ross lived in a small two-bedroom house, not far from campus.  He was standing on his front porch when Chandler and Monica pulled up in their rental car.

"Hey Mon!" Ross waved enthusiastically, as Chandler put the car into park.

"Oh God, your brother really is a dork," Chandler observed wryly.

"Yeah," Monica shrugged, and opened the door of the car, "Hey Ross!"

"Wow, nice car!" Ross bounded down the steps and moved to hug his sister.

"Yeah, it's a rental," Monica laughed.

"But still…hey, who's this?  I thought you were bringing—"

"Ross, this is my _boyfriend_ Chandler.  Chandler, my brother Ross," Monica interrupted quickly.

"Hey, nice to meet you," Ross smiled, and extended his hand.

"Nice to meet you.  I've heard a lot about you," Chandler smiled, "And I hear you're engaged!  Congratulations!"

"Hey, thanks!  Yeah, I'm hoping my fiancé will make an appearance sometime soon…she is dying to meet Monica."

"Well, since you have told me next to nothing about her, I can't wait to actually find out if she's a real person," Monica joked, as Chandler moved to retrieve their bags.

"Oh, whatever," Ross laughed, "Anyway, you guys'll have to share a room…but no funny business," he pointed his finger at Monica sharply.

"Okay, dad, sheesh!"

"Come on in, I'll give you the grand tour!"

"So Ross, we've been here an hour, and still no fiancé," Monica smiled, "When are you gonna fess up?  She isn't real, is she?  Mom and dad have been on your case ever since you and Carol got divorced, so you made a girl up to shut them up?"

"As a matter of fact, NO," Ross sighed, "All they ever do is complain about how they never hear from YOU!"

"Well, Mom needs to let the little things go, ya know?  I'm sick of hearing about how my hair looked 'so much better short and neat'," Monica mocked her mother's tone with bitter precision.

"So Ross," Chandler decided to try and make his way into the conversation before he dozed off, "you were married before?"

"Yeah, but it didn't work out," Ross replied somberly, "She was cheating on me with someone else."

"Yeah, someone named _Susan_," Monica laughed.

"Whoa, your wife's a lesbian?"

"Ex-wife, and…yeah."

"Wow," Chandler smiled and shook his head.

"What is it with you guys and lesbians, anyway?" Monica tutted.

"It's…. hot!" Chandler smiled wistfully.

"Whatever," Monica shook her head.

"Hey, she's here!" Ross jumped up and skipped to the front door, just as his fiancé walked up to the porch.

"Hi sweetie!  My sister and her boyfriend are here!"

"Oh, great!  I can't wait to meet…_oh my God_."

Chandler turned around, and felt all of the blood rush from his head.

"Phoebe."

**AN: Ha ha, short chapter with a cliffhanger, hee.**

**Hate me yet?  You will, I promise…**

****


	6. Forever Blue

**AN: So, apparently, I never finished this one…oops.  Anyway, just to clear some things up; Rachel is pregnant with Joey's baby…she lied to Joey in the last chapter.  Um, I think the other questions should be answered here.  **

_Kind of Blue_

_Forever Blue_

The room was spinning.  She wavered slightly, but stayed rooted to her spot in the doorway.  She felt Ross touch her arm in concern, but she shook it off, and struggled to gather her thoughts.

Of all the women in New York, Chandler Bing had managed to find her fiancé's little sister.

"Um, I take it you two know each other?" Ross asked tightly, his dark eyes darting from the love of his life, to the man he'd only known for an hour.

"Chandler?  What's going on?"  Monica's voice was shaky, and her face was remarkably paler.

Phoebe was the first to recover.  She broke from her trance, and looked at Ross calmly.

"Chandler and I used to _date_," she tried to sound as casual as possible, but her comment came out much more flippant than she had intended.

She stole a glance at Chandler, and saw his expression darken.

"Anyway, it's ancient history, right Chandler?"

Chandler didn't reply; he studied his hands, which were balled up in his lap, while he struggled to form a coherent thought.

"Chandler?" Monica looked over at her boyfriend, and tried to keep all emotion out of her voice.

"I—I need some air," Chandler stood suddenly, and stormed out of the house, before anyone could reply.

The night air had a slight chill, he noted, as he stepped out onto the porch, and wrapped his arms around himself protectively.  He shivered slightly, though he wasn't sure that the cold air was the cause.  

He thought he was over her.

Chandler closed his eyes, and took a long, deep breath.

He was—he was over Phoebe.  It was just…shock—the shock of seeing her, after all this time…

_He could feel it, as soon as he entered the apartment.  Something wasn't right.  The air…seemed heavier…and it was darker somehow.  He took a deep breath, and walked fully into the apartment he shared with his longtime girlfriend._

_"Pheebs?  You here?" his voice was shaking slightly, as he scanned the darkened room._

_She was seated on the sofa, her hand folded reverently in front of her, her head bowed slightly.  If Chandler didn't know any better, he'd say she was praying._

_"Phoebe?  Are you okay sweetie?" he walked toward her briskly, and kneeled down in front of her._

_She didn't respond at first.  She took a long, shaky breath, and shook her head slightly._

_"What happened?" Concern was mounting in him, and he reached out and took her hands in his._

_Still, she said nothing._

_"Whatever it is baby, I'm here.  I love you, and I want to help.  What is it?"_

_She finally raised her head, and he was startled by how completely devastated she looked.  Her eyes were bloodshot and swollen from crying.  Chandler moved to pull her into an embrace, but she stood abruptly, and crossed the room._

_He hid his confusion and disappointment, and stood as well._

_"I'm moving out, Chandler," her voice was so soft, he was sure he hadn't heard her correctly._

_"What?" he rasped._

_"I'm leaving you.  I tried to make it work but…you aren't the one I'm meant to be with."_

_"There's…there's someone else?" he couldn't bring himself to look at her._

_"He…he's a scientist.  Joey met him…last night…and I knew that…that it would all come out eventually."_

_"Joey…I…I don't understand…what did I do?  Pheebs, tell me what I did!  I can change_, _I can fix it…. please," Chandler pleaded softly, as tears filled his eyes and ran in long streaks down his face._

_"I—I have to go.  He's waiting," Phoebe picked up a bag that Chandler hadn't even noticed until that moment._

"Phoebe—" Chandler hiccupped, as she walked toward the door.  She paused slightly, but when he didn't say anything, she opened the door, and walked out.

_She never looked back._

_And he vowed he would never let himself love anyone that way again._

"Small world," her voice sounded small, and raspy.  Chandler took a moment before turning to face her, determined not to reveal himself.

"It's been…a while," he managed to croak, his eyes not quite meeting hers, his hands gripping the railing behind him with a fierce intensity.

"Chandler—"

"So this is the scientist, huh?" his words were cold and clipped, and Phoebe visibly winced, and wrapped her arms around herself tightly.

"Don't do this," Phoebe pleaded softly.

"Is he your soul mate, then?  The one you're _meant to be with_?"

"Is _she_?" Phoebe countered harshly, and Chandler's eyes darkened.

He looked over Phoebe's shoulder, and at a silhouetted image of Monica.  She was seated at the edge of the sofa; her hands folded in her lap, her face stoic.  Ross was pacing back and forth behind her; occasionally stealing nervous glances out the window.  Chandler's eyes fell onto Monica again, and he sighed deeply.

"I don't know," he whispered, "I haven't let myself go yet."

"Why?" Phoebe asked softly.

Chandler laughed bitterly, and turned his head away from Phoebe, and away from the tense scene inside.  He shook his head slowly.

"Why?  I think you know why, Pheebs.  You ripped my heart out the day you left.  I can't—I won't let myself fall that way again."

"That's not fair to her…is it?"

Chandler looked over at Monica again, his eyes misting.

"No," he whispered, "it's not."

Two Months Later

The rain pelted the windows with ever-increasing force, creating a chaotic thumping throughout the darkened apartment.

The weather only dampened Monica's already dark mood.

The weeks following the trip to Boston had been a disaster for everyone.  Chandler and Phoebe had sworn up and down that they were finished, and that they were ready to move on with their respective partners.  But as the weeks wore on, Chandler became increasingly distant, and Monica felt him slipping away.  As much as it had broken her heart, she'd let him go, and was now trying desperately to pick up the pieces.

She'd replayed the final moments of their relationship over and over in her head, trying to figure out if she'd done the right thing—holding out hope that she had not.

_"I was thinking we could go away this weekend…you know, just the two of us.  We haven't had much alone time since—"_

_"I—I can't Mon, I…I have to work.  I'm just…I'm really busy right now."_

_"Right.  Well, you know what Chandler, maybe you should just give me a call when you aren't so busy…or so in love with somebody else!"_

_Chandler looked up, and she saw pain flash through his eyes. _

_"I'm not in love with her…I just need—"_

_"What?  What do you need, Chandler?  Tell me what I can do to fix this?"_

_Chandler's eyes fell to the ground, and he tensed slightly.  He shook his head, and looked up at Monica, tears filling his eyes._

_"You can let me go.  It's for the best, Mon, it really is."_

A sharp knock at the door ripped her from her reverie.  She shuffled to the door, her heart praying that Chandler would be standing on the other side, drenched with rain and looking as miserable as she felt.

The person standing on the other side of the door was drenched, and did look miserable.

But she was also pregnant.

"Rach, what the—"

"Mon, I'm so, so sorry to intrude, but I…I didn't know where else to go!"

"Well come in!  Let me get you a towel," Monica smiled warmly and led Rachel into the apartment.  She pulled a guest towel from the linen closet, and handed it to her shivering former best friend.

"What happened to you?"

"I…Barry kicked me out," Rachel sobbed, and Monica winced as she collapsed onto her white sofa.

"Oh, honey, let's um, get you into some dry clothes, okay?" Monica pulled Rachel off of the sofa, and into her bedroom.

"I—I told him the t-truth," Rachel hiccupped, as Monica pulled out sweatpants and a sweatshirt, "About how I don't really l-love him, and th-that the b-baby isn't h-his," Rachel continued.

"You were cheating on him?" Monica asked, shocked by Rachel's revelation.

"I don't love him!" Rachel shouted, and Monica started.

"D-do you love this other guy?"

Rachel nodded silently, and sniffled loudly.

"B-but he h-hates me," she cried, "I-I broke it off.  I-I told him the baby wasn't h-his."

"Did you talk to him?  Tell him how you felt?"

Again Rachel shook her head, then looked up at Monica pleadingly.

"Mon, can I stay here tonight?  I-I can't go home, and I can't go to Joey's.  And my dad…oh, my dad is gonna kill me!" Rachel sobbed, and launched herself into Monica's arms.

"Shhh, it's okay sweetie, you can stay here," Monica rubbed Rachel's back soothingly, "everything's gonna be just fine."

If only she could believe that herself.

AN: I'm dividing up the conclusion into two parts.  I'll try to get the next part up shortly, so I can be done with this one!!  Woot!


	7. Blue Eyes Meet Blue

AN: So I was looking at my list of fics, and noted that the titles of my fics cover almost every letter of the alphabet.  I think my new goal is to cover each and every letter.  I'm currently missing fic titles that start with the letters B, G, J, Q, X, Y and Z.  Any ideas for titles? lol.

_Kind of Blue_

_Blue Eyes Meet Blue_

_Three Months Later_

The warm, acidic liquid burned his throat, and he closed his eyes and tried not to gag as it slid it's way down his chest, and settled in his stomach.

He was never really good at this whole _drinking-yourself-into-a-stupor_ thing.

"I figured I'd find you here."

He didn't even bother to turn around.  He simply stared down at the bar, his head heavy with sorrow and alcohol, his eyes stinging from hidden tears the disembodied voice elicited.

"What are you doing here, Phoebe?"

"Seeing if you're okay. You're not okay, are you?"

Chandler snorted, and looked up at Phoebe with bloodshot eyes.

"I haven't been okay for a long time," he said despondently.

"I saw the article in the paper this morning, and I wondered what you must have been thinking," Phoebe continued.

"Yeah, well…"Chandler shrugged, and signaled the bartender to bring him another.

"Don't you think you've had enough?"

"I've only had two…three…seriously, Pheebs, why are you here?"

"Ross called off the wedding," Phoebe sighed, and plopped down on the barstool next to Chandler.

"Oh, Pheebs, I'm sorry—"

"Well, you should be!  This is all _your_ fault you know," Phoebe cried harshly, and downed Chandler's scotch.

"What?  How is this my fault?"

"You blew off Ross' _sister_!"

"So?"

"So!  He thinks you did it because you still love _me_, and now he's convinced himself that I still love _you_!"

"But you don't!"

"I know that!  But Ross is—" Phoebe sighed and shook her head, "Ross isn't so sure."

"So…that's why you were looking for me.  Do you want me to talk to Ross?"

"No…well, maybe…but Chandler, I really was worried about you.  I know you love Monica.  I could see it that night up in Boston.  Why did you let her go?"

"Because…you were right, Pheebs.  She deserves better.  She deserves more that I was able to give her."

"Ugh, you are so _stupid_!" Phoebe cried, exasperated.

"Gee, thanks, sweetheart," Chandler said flatly.

"Chandler, you _love_ her!"

"Yeah, I guess I—"

"And she loves _you_!  Why are you throwing that away?"

"No, Pheebs, she _loved_ me.  You forget that she's marrying someone else tomorrow!"

"She's not married yet, Chandler, and she shouldn't get married until she knows how you feel!"

"No way, I'm not doing that!  I'm not ruining her wedding by running into the church at the eleventh hour to declare my undying love for her just as the minister asks if there are any objections!"

"Oooh!  You should _do_ that!"

"Phoebe, go…marry your scientist, okay?"

Phoebe smiled, and cupped Chandler's cheek with her hand.

"Don't you see, Chandler?  This was all _meant to be_."

Chandler smiled, and kissed Phoebe softly.

"I know."

It is the unnatural combination of oxygen, light, and city smog that creates the brilliant display of colors in the dusk skies above New York City.  And the orange glow that filtered its way through the church windows that evening blanketed the room in a warm hue, softening her reflection in the full-length mirror.

Monica ran a flat hand over the satin fabric of her dress, ironing out the wrinkles that no one but her would ever notice.  Her hair sat in a neatly arranged heap on top of her head, curls of ebony cascading down, and framing her face perfectly.

She fumbled with her diamond and sapphire bracelet, shaky hands turning it so that it was just so.

Everything was perfect; everything was fine.

She took a deep breath and lifted her head, her eyes slowly following suit.  

Blue eyes met blue, as she focused on her own reflection.

A solitary, rebellious tear slid down her porcelain cheek, shattering the illusion.

She would never be the same.

Peter Becker had come back into her life at the best and the worst time.  Amazingly, he was still in love with her, even though she'd been the one to break off their short engagement over a year earlier.

Her parents had pressured her into the relationship in the first place—her mother desperate to marry her off, her father glowing at the mere idea that his daughter was marrying a billionaire.

But she never loved Pete, so she followed her heart, and broke it off.

Then she met Chandler.

_So much for following your heart._

She'd run into Pete while she was still stinging from Chandler's rejection.  His proposal seemed logical, at the time.

"It looks like rain is coming," Rachel said softly, as she walked into the dressing room.  Now seven months pregnant, Rachel was nearly bursting at the seams, but Monica was sure she'd never seen anyone so radiant—yet so sad, in her life.

"It's not supposed to rain today," Monica whispered, and surreptitiously wiped the tears from her eyes.

"Mon—" Rachel started, then shook her head.

"What?  Tell me Rach," Monica turned, and looked at Rachel.

"I shouldn't," Rachel shook her head, and bit her bottom lip.

"Rachel, it's okay," Monica smiled encouragingly.

"Okay, but don't get mad, okay?"

"I swear I won't."

"I don't think you should do this."

"What?"

"I don't think you should marry Pete.  You don't love him, Mon, and you're getting married for all the wrong reasons."

"Rach—"

"Believe me, Monica, I know what I'm talking about, okay?  I never loved Barry the way I love Joey, and look where it got me!  In two months I'm gonna be a single mother, on my own in New York City!  I lost everything, and for what?  I married Barry so I wouldn't be alone.  Look at me now," Rachel sighed, and a fat tear slid down her cheek.

"Rach, I'm not you, okay?  I know that Pete loves me, and the thing is—"

"But you love Chandler."

"The thing is—Chandler didn't want me.  Pete does.  I may not get another chance to do this."

"That's your mother talking.  You don't have to settle, Monica."

"You know what Rach?  You're right.  But neither do you."

"What?" Rachel blinked, truly shocked that Monica had seemingly relented.

"I'll make you a deal. I'll go tell Pete the wedding is off…if you call Joey and tell him the truth."

Rachel's eyes widened, and she shook her head.

"Rachel—if he loves you, then he's just as miserable as you are.  Call him."

"Fine," Rachel conceded, "but you first."

He just stood there.  He wasn't really sure how long he had been standing there, and in fact, he couldn't quite remember how he had gotten there.  But there he was, standing across the street from The Plaza, watching the traffic whiz by in a haze, watching the sky darken ominously with every second that passed.

Why the hell was he here?

She'd moved on, she'd found love with someone new.  Yet something was keeping him rooted to the ground, hoping to catch just a glimpse of her…wondering if she was thinking of him at all today.

Lightning flashed across the sky, and before he knew what was happening, he was being pelted with heavy rain.  

_It figured_.

He kept his eyes on the entrance of the hotel, wondering all the while if she was married yet—should he run in and try to stop it?

Suddenly, she appeared in the doorway, clad in a stunning white gown, taking his breath away.

He swallowed hard, and watched her fumble with an umbrella.

She was alone.  Where was her husband?  Where were the guests?

She looked up at the sky, and shook her head.

He suddenly realized he wasn't breathing, and let out a long breath.

She opened the umbrella, and turned toward the taxi queue.  Alone.

Before he could stop himself, he screamed her name.

And time just…stopped.

"Hello?"

"Joey?"

"R-Rachel?"

"Yeah.  H-how'd you know it was me?"

"Are you okay?  Where are you?"

"The Plaza."

"The Plaza?  As in the Plaza hotel?"

"It's a long story.  Look, Joey, there's something I need to tell you, but I can't do it over the phone—"

"I'll be right there."

He hung up before Rachel could reply.

Monica whipped around, her eyes scanning the doorway of the hotel.

"Monica!"

She turned again, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from.  Her eyes fell on Chandler, and her umbrella tumbled from her fingers and her heart leapt into her throat.

_He was drenched…and he looked miserable_.

"Monica, wait!"

"Chandler, what are you doing here?"

"I—I don't know," Chandler yelled over the rain.

"You heard I was getting married, didn't you?"

"You can't marry him, Monica.  You just…you can't."

"Why not?  _You_ left _me_, remember?"

"I know…look Monica, you were right, about Phoebe.  She broke my heart when she left me—"

Monica's eyes narrowed, "I've gotta go," she said.

"And I swore I wouldn't let anyone get to me the way she did.  And I almost didn't.  Monica, I thought I was saving you by letting you go.  I thought it was the best thing I could do—for both of us.  It turns out I was wrong."

Tears melded with raindrops, as Monica looked up at Chandler.

"What do you want, Chandler?"

"You.  I want you.  I love you Monica."

"You're just saying that because of Pete!" she yelled over the rain and thunder.

"No—I'm saying it because I'm not afraid to!  I love you!  I love you more than I've ever loved anyone!"

"What about Phoebe?"

"She—she made me see that losing her was the best thing that could have happened to me.  _It led me to you_."

"I—I don't know what you want me to say!"

"Tell me you love me—or tell me to go to hell—I just…I just needed you to know, that I love you.  I'll always love you Monica!"

"I—wh—it's my wedding day!"

"I know!  I'm sorry!"

"I—"

"Chandler?  What the hell are you doing here?"

Chandler turned to see Joey standing behind him, his brow furrowed.

"Monica is getting married."

"Yeah, and I though we'd agreed that you ruining her day was a really _stupid_ idea!"

"I thought you just said that because it was Phoebe's idea!"

"What?" Monica interrupted.  Chandler turned and smiled sheepishly.

"Dude, I gotta go, Rachel's waiting for me!"

"Wait, how do you know Rachel?" Monica asked.

"How do _you_ know Rachel?" Joey echoed.

"She's my best friend—we went to high school together!"

"What?" Joey and Chandler exclaimed simultaneously.

"Joey?" Joey looked up, as Rachel approached.

"Rachel!"

"Rach, you shouldn't be out here in your condition!"

"_This_ is the married woman you're in love with?" Chandler asked.

"You're in love with me?" Rachel smiled.

"Oh my God, then _this_ is the father of your baby!" Monica cried excitedly.

"What?" Joey yelled, and stepped back.

"Monica!" Rachel yelled.

"Sorry!"

"Y-you said Barry was the father!"

"I lied," Rachel smiled.

Joey grinned, and moved to pull Rachel into an embrace.  He realized shortly that he couldn't reach around her, so he moved to her side, and kissed her tenderly.

"I'm gonna be a father?" he whispered, tears lining his eyes.

Rachel nodded wordlessly, and Joey kissed her again.

"Joey, get her out of the rain," Chandler laughed, and pushed the reunited couple toward the hotel.  His smile faded, when he looked down at Monica.

"Am I in love with a married woman too?" he asked somberly.

"I—" Monica looked down at her hands, then held up her left ring finger slowly, "I called off the wedding twenty minutes ago."

Relief washed over Chandler's face, and he swallowed hard.

"Why?" he asked tentatively.

"Because…I'm in love with somebody else."

"Really?" Chandler smiled shyly, and took a step toward her.

"Really.  His name is Paul, and he's great!"

Chandler's smile faded, and Monica giggled.

"Gotcha," she whispered, as Chandler leaned in to kiss her.

"I still can't believe that your new girlfriend's brother just happened to be engaged to your _ex_-girlfriend," Joey laughed.

"What about you?  Knocking up _my_ girlfriend's best friend?" Chandler smiled knowingly.

"It is strange," Joey nodded, "So, if you and Monica get married, and Ross and Phoebe get married, then you're gonna be related to your ex-girlfriend."

"Ech, I never thought of it like that," Chandler shuddered, "But I think it'll be okay.  Phoebe and I…we talked, and I think we'll be able to hang out without any…weirdness."

"Really?" Joey arched an eyebrow skeptically.

"Eh," Chandler shrugged, "hey, what the hell do you think those two are doing in there anyway?" Chandler nodded towards the hotel lobby women's restroom.

"Talking about us," Joey grinned and shook his head.

"I think we may have opened a horrible can of worms here, my friend."

"Yeah," Joey sighed, "It's great, isn't it?"

Chandler laughed, as Rachel and Monica emerged from the restroom.

"What are you guys laughing about?" Monica asked with mock-sternness, as Chandler snaked his arm around her waist.

"You, of course," Chandler smiled sweetly.

"Right.  Anyway, we just talked to Ross.  It looks like he and Phoebe are back together—and engaged again."

"So I guess it's happily ever after for everyone then, huh?"

"Not quite," Monica pulled away from Chandler and looked at him crossly, "You never explained why you coming here was Phoebe's idea."

Chandler swallowed and looked at Joey, who shrugged and led Rachel away.

"I…I guess she just wanted me to be happy," he shrugged and smiled feebly.

"Or maybe she was trying to win Ross back?" Monica arched her eyebrow playfully, "I talked to her, she told me everything."

"Oh God, you two aren't going to become, like, best friends or something, are you?"

"Does that scare you, Mr. Bing?" Monica asked flirtatiously.

"You have no idea," Chandler smiled, and kissed Monica softly.

The End

AN: So here's the deal with why this fic took so long.  I had the ending.  It was all done and ready to go.  But the more I worked on the middle portion of the story, the less I liked the ending I had laid out.  So I put it off, because I had no idea where to take it.  I still don't like the ending, but it's better than what I had.  In the original ending, Chandler is killed in a car wreck, Joey and Rachel never get back together, and the only people that end up happy in the end are Ross and Phoebe.  Aren't you glad I changed it?

Review and let me know.


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